Beautiful Disaster
by toxickk924
Summary: A tragedy with more damage than a soul should see... :NickOC: SPOILERS up through this season: R&R please!


Crawling.

Biting.

Shaking.

Panting.

Screaming.

It was the first time he shot up in bed without a sound. That had to be some progress, but he wish he could say the same for the softly illuminated room that surrounded him.

It had been months and he still had to sleep with the lamp on. He wished he didn't have to have the childish fear of the darkness, but it had taken on a whole new meaning since that terrifying night.

Ceasing his panting, he untwisted the bundle of covers, more proof that he had just been having another nightmare (the count had dropped from many to one a night, if he was lucky), pulling them up over his half-naked body and fearfully drifting back off to sleep.

---------------------------

"Hey, Nicky."

Nick looked up from his shoelace, putting the finishing knot in it to see Kristin walk into the locker room. "Hey, Kris." He replied, letting his leg down off the bench. "How was your weekend?"

"Boring." She sighed, taking her lock and spinning the dial. "I had a date."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "How could it be boring then?"

She looked at him with her crystal blue eyes as she pulled open her locker. "It was with a guy named Ben and his friend, Jerry. We watched Saturday Night Live." Kristin shrugged off her jacket, flipping her shoulder-length brown and blonde-highlighted hair. "What about you?"

He slightly bit his bottom lip, thinking about his most recent nightmare. Not that it was any different. The darkness, the heat, the ants, Grissom, the flashing lights, all blurry, all fast-paced. He shrugged. "Pretty much the same. Minus the ice cream." He ran a hand through his now much-longer hair. "I'll go check if Grissom gave us a new case."

Kristin nodded. "Alright, I'll meet you out there." She watched him walk out the door.

She hadn't known Nick that long. In fact, Grissom had brought her onto the team two months before Nick's disappearance when the case load at the lab became a little overwhelming, so she had only interacted with the team on a professional level at that point. After working a few cases with Nick, she had perceived him as this strong, sensitive, good ol' Texan boy that loved his work. And in joining the team for his search, she saw him fall apart in that chilling tomb, and she knew that he was never going to be the same.

She hated to dwell on the past knowing the future would never compare, but from time to time she would reminisce of how they would talk. Nothing too serious, just something to keep themselves occupied when all they had to do was wait until Mia got back to them with some results. They would talk about the south (she was from Arizona) and the huge change Vegas had been for both of them.

Now, they would never talk outside of their cases. He had become extremely introverted, but no one dared to mention it. It was his way of dealing with it, Grissom said, and that it would take time for him to come around again. She understood that, despite the fact that she didn't have any friends except her team in Vegas, Nick being the closest.

It wasn't that huge of an impact on her. She had been disappointed before, and this time was no different. Checking her appearance in her locker mirror, she shut the door and walked out into the hall in search of Grissom.

As she did, Greg just happened to fall in step with her. "Hey, Bixie," Greg greeted, calling her by the nickname he had given her within the first week of joining the team. "How was your weekend?"

"Fine," Kristin replied, looking at him to see his signature grin. "I'm guessing yours was good?"

"Unbelievable…" He said, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

She smirked, folding her arms. "And I'm also guessing you're waiting for me to ask you what made it unbelievable?"

Greg sighed. "Well, if you must know—"

"Nobody wants to hear about the tail you got over the weekend, Sanders." Warrick quipped, walking out of Grissom's office followed by Nick. "Besides, if I can't talk about it, you can't."

Kristin placed a hand on her hip. "We all know you and Tina are stripped as soon as you walk in the door so we really don't need details."

"Okay, kids, calm down." Nick said, stepping in between Kristin and Warrick to break the glares towards each other. "Greg, Kris, you're with me. We've got a triple in that new Stoneycreek sub off of Palmer."

"Goody." Kristin commented, taking the slip of paper from Nick.

He handed Warrick the second slip of paper. "You and Sara have a 419 at the Wynn."

"Have any of you seen Sara?" Warrick asked.

"I did." Greg chimed in. "I'll trade you cases," he offered, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I'll pass, which I know she appreciates," the older CSI said, brushing past the rookie. "But if this involves the occult, I'll let you know."

"My car," Nick suggested, heading towards the locker room to get his vest.

-------------------------------

Piling out of Nick's Yukon, the CSIs had to leave their air-conditioned haven behind to work in the scorching heat. Although it was a bit bearable with the seldom breeze that passed through. Kits in hand, the three walked under the yellow tape that blocked off the empty driveway winding its way behind the daunting two-story colonial home. It seemed out of place since most of the homes were the standard white-plastered walls and dusty orange Aztec roofs, but Stoneycreek was the first subdivision in the residential Vegas area to bring a sense of mid-western, upperclass, Desperate Housewives living, to hell with the lack of practicality and sky-high energy bills.

Brass, noticing the 'geek squad' approaching, pulled away from the small group of officers he was talking to. "Welcome to the Clarkston home," he announced, motioning to the house, "minus the Clarkstons."

"The whole family?" Kristin asked.

The detective gave a curt nod, leading the team to the back of the house. "Dog walker came over this morning, and normally, when she knocks on the door, the wife, Alexia, answers it and hands her their Yorkie. When nobody came to the door, she came around the back and peered through the sliding glass door to see the Mrs. collapsed on the kitchen floor. Called 911."

Nick quickly snapped on gloves as he stepped over the threshold of the back door. "And the triple comes in…?"

"Uniforms did a quick sweep to clear the house seeing as when we got here, we saw a broken window on the side of the house, and the husband, Chris, is on the stairs; the son, Mason, is in the basement."

"Have you examined the husband, Super Dave?" Nick asked.

David, the morgue's quirky, traveling coroner, looked up from Alexia's bloody body. "Yeah, both him and the kid. Liver temps were very close together: 90.7 and 90.5, making estimated TOD somewhere between four and five earlier this evening." He was briefly distracted by the beeping of the thermometer that was lodged in Alexia's abdomen, Pulling it out, he squinted to read the digital read-out on top. "Hers is just about the same: 90.4."

"Cause of death?" Kristin asked, squatting down beside the victim.

David sighed. "Under all this blood, this one's hard to determine."

Greg bent over, surprised his stomach wasn't churning over the gruesome sight. He was sure that, at one time, her crimson hair was a golden blonde, her hazel eyes energetic, her bruised, blood-smeared face and arms originally sun-kissed, and her soaked tank top once a bright pink and smelled like tropical rain detergent. "Could be her throat was slashed, the artery ruptured."

"My best guess would be that, along with a gun shot to the head like the other two. But we'll know more at autopsy." David replied.

"Thanks, David." Kristin said, opening her kit.

"I'll take the husband." Nick told his fellow CSIs.

Greg nodded, opening the basement door. "I'll be downstairs."

David looked at Kristin as he packed up his gear. "Let me know when you're finished."

Kristin nodded, beginning to process the body. "Will do."

---------------------------------------

Nick wiped sweat from his brow as he loaded up his Yukon. They had spent most of their night searching the house, and all of them were exhausted. But their work had only begun. Now it was time to get back to the lab and process the evidence they had collected.

"Bixman," Kristin answered her phone in response to its shrill ring. "Yeah, we're almost done. We should be there in about a half hour." She told the person on the other end as she handed her kit to Nick. "Have Mia ready for our evidence. Alright, see you then." She shut her phone.

"Grissom?" Nick asked, leaning against the car.

"Yeah," Kristin sighed. "Checking up on us, of course."

Nick shrugged. "Only because we have Greggo… who apparently got lost inside."

"Can you blame him?" She smirked. "The place is huge."

He pulled out his phone and dialed Greg. "Hey, boss… You coming out anytime soon?... Alright, well hurry up, Grissom's waiting for us." He hung up, rubbing his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Kristin asked.

"Yeah," Nick sighed. "I'm just tired." He looked at her as she gathered her hair and held it with one hand, rubbing the back of her neck with the other. He nodded to the car. "Get in and get cool. I don't want you to witness the beat down I'm going to give Greg."

Kristin softly smiled in gratitude, walking to the side of the car and climbing into the front passenger seat. Finding refuge from the heat, she studied his reflection in the rear-view mirror, watching him blow a stray strand of hair out of his eyes and trying to maintain his patience. The Nick she knew seemed to be chipping away at this shell… although she refused to put much faith into it. She knew things could change in an instant.


End file.
